


Sometimes It's Not the Elf You Have to Worry About

by SarcasmFish (Alcyonidae)



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-21
Updated: 2017-05-21
Packaged: 2018-11-03 08:14:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10963266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alcyonidae/pseuds/SarcasmFish
Summary: Alistair and the Warden visit a local shop to pick up supplies.  The shop keeper questions her motives and Alistair unexpectedly intervenes.





	Sometimes It's Not the Elf You Have to Worry About

“I’m sorry, but your master needs to be here to approve o’ this,” the man’s voice was drawn and overly sweet.

“I….”  She turned her head in thought, sure she was mishearing.  “What?”

“This much money.  Now, how do I know you didn’t go stealin’ this and plan to make a run for it?  Seein’ all these supplies.”

Alistair was staring at a shelf full of children’s toys beside her.  Models of warriors, Templars, animals, and golems lined up in neat rows stared back down at him.

A scowl colored her features, annoyance overtaking it.  “You’re saying I’m a thief?  That I stole this money?”

“Now that’s not what I said, little one.”

Alistair’s interest turned into a frown.  He took the few strides over to the encounter and grabbed the man by his shirt front, pulling him halfway across the counter.  The store owner yelped, flailing his limbs for balance, but settled on grabbing Alistair’s armored arm for support.

“Does she really look like a thief?”  His tone was still normal in that almost joking way that Alistair spoke.  Or at least, rather normal for a man holding another by the scruff of the neck.  “Or just an elf?”

“Are you her master?” the store owner squeaked.  “I’ll just-“

Alistair pulled the man further across the counter, the shopkeepers feet kicking at the air as he lay prone across the wood.

“Does she look like a thief?  Or an elf?” he asked again, voice patient, but punctuated, none of his usual comical inflections this time.

“An elf,” the man answered, meek and quiet.  A realization began to crest its way across his features, turning them into a regret that was too inspired by fear.

Alistair dropped him and turned to beam at his companion.  “My lady!”  He announced with a dramatic rise in tone.  “Have you heard the good news?  This gracious shopkeeper has offered us a hefty discount!”

The older man stood and did his best to smooth out his rumpled shirt and smock.  He was trying to avoid looking at either of them for very long.

The younger warden glanced between the two a moment, still recovering from Alistair’s sudden intervention.  It was unlike him to show such sudden aggression, but his charming smile was too much to resist.  She found herself mirroring it right back at him.

“Oh, is that right?”  She played along, sarcasm dripping from her words.  She turned to point to the shelf of figures.  “I hear he’s throwing in a free whichever of those you’d like!”

Her smile took on an impish edge and she could have sworn Alistair squealed in delight.

If a man in heavy armor could have bounced back over to the toys he would have.  “Maker, how do I choose?”  His words no longer held the mocking tone.  His joy was genuine.

She turned back to the shopkeeper, the humor dropping from her face all at once.

“Sometimes it’s not the elf you have to worry about.”  She slapped the money onto the counter, pulled the bag of items onto her shoulder, and joined Alistair in picking out his prize.


End file.
